Normale Version: Supremacy
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There is a drear and lonely tract of hell
From all the common gloom removed afar:
A flat, sad land it is, where shadows are,
Whose lorne estate my verse may never tell.

I walked among them and I knew them well:
Men I had slandered on lif’s little star
For churis and sluggards; and I knew the scar
Upon their brows of woe ineffable.

But as I went majestic on my way,
Into the dark they vanished, one by one,
Till, with a shaft of God’s eternal day,

The dream of all my glory was undone, -
And, with a fool’s importunate dismay,
I heard the dead men singing in the sun.